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Max Neumann Dec 2020
god flew through my coffee this morning;
an intellectual crow entered my apartment,
and it guzzled a sip of the holy brew
me? i didn't take notice, just took notes

a blind writer who seeks the extraordinary,
distracted by a strayed quest for himself
left eye red, the right one black, wolfishly
a tribe of suicidals shattered my eye sight

they were dancing in trance
they were singing in kid's voices:

"we forgotten who we are; our skins crumbling
we don't want to live inside your body; no!
we won't be your voice anymore; we be leaving

golemland is our destination, shelter of letters"
then, the tribe of suicidals left, depriving me of words
Harry J Baxter Jan 2014
You aren't quite sure why this mediocre movie is so funny
but **** it Adam ******* is on form
look he's doing the thing with the voice
I want ice cream. Does anybody else really want ice cream?
my throat is made of desert sand
dessert* sand
that's funny
oh yeah OJ thanks
now pass me the rig. the song is changing and we need some new energy
I just want to chill and vibe
the ceiling fan hasn't been dusted in... oh I don't know, a year?
and just maybe it will come crashing down upon us
a black mess of ash, soot, and dust
and maybe that would be pretty funny
and maybe I'd geek out
and maybe I wouldn't
who cares? the next episode of Trailer Park Boys is about to start
and the sun is about ninety degrees from setting

Night now
and moonlight flows as adrenaline
rushing and flooding the parts of our brain
which go
"well **** this could be fun"
a recipe for a good night goes like this:
five cans of beer, pbr or bud light
maybe coors
some of those girly limearitas
because **** it they are yummy and get the job done
smoke break
make it three in a row
working on the chain gang of suicidals
okay now break open the good potion
whiskey *** gin ***** whatever sinks your boat
but make sure to consume in large damnation seeking swallows
and remember men only chase with high fives
who even high fives anymore?
now listen the **** up
because this next part is important
never. I repeat never smoke within three hours of the night
that is unless you want to get trapped in the party limbo
of hanging out in the kitchen, by the fridge
with the two only people you know in the entire joint
nobody want's to **** the guy eating pizza and playing with the cat in the corner
while you're there - be sure to drink as much free liquor as possible
oh me? I'm an exchange student from England. Show me what American college life is like? Sure I'll quote some Harry Potter. Sure I will take that shot. Oh your roommate is not home? Interesting.
because we all know that *** brings validation, and validation is the biggest drug of all
wake up the next morning and mumble something about a hangover and how much fun last night was
can I get your number? I'll text you my life story in emoticon format sometime.

Back in the filthy apartment
your bed stained with ash, sweat, and God knows what looks awfully inviting.
sleep an hour or two
get up feeling less ******
put on a *** of coffee
liquid ******* to set your veins running with productive fire
and then the shakes come
smoke a few cigarettes if you have any left
if not, the pick market is just a block away
and the sun is shining
okay now get into your bath robe and sweat pants
smoke yourself a fat GB
you deserve it
shake off the grime and pseudo-glory of night before
in a couple of hours
it's all going to start again
Doongi96 Mar 2014
She jumped through the window
He jumped in front of the train
They left the world together
With a flame quite the same.

She hung herself with the noose
He shot himself with the gun
They left the world together
In a blaze quite filled with shun.

She stabbed her heart with the knife
He overdosed his veins with the drug
They left the world together
In a heat unfilled with love.

She slit her own wrist
He pushed his own body over the clift
They left the world together
In the darkness of the night.

She drowned herself in the ocean
He threw himself into the heat
They left the world together
With the coldness of defeat.

She ran in front of the car
He leaped off the plane
They left the world together
With emotions quite the same.
epictails Aug 2015
So today, I just had some sort of epiphany. It's weird because I get these sort of things when I am in the weirdest places. And that weird place for me is inside a plane. Near the window seat, not quite ,but the soft sunlight hits me in the right way and I feel pleased.  I had coffee before I boarded so it had the effect I needed to behave quite cheerfully. Oddly enough today I did not go through my all too familiar episodes of inability to function normally, submerge jn a lake of hopelessness or just hate everything and anything all at once. Though to be quite fair my stomach feels strange again maybe be cause of the cold drink I had or the influence of feeling panic every single morning (an uncontrollable fear that usually starts before I get depressed, I may add) or maybe both. It's so amusing how my mind works to be honest. I started observing people in the plane, the ones beside me and the ones who are going back and forth to stow their stuff or whatever.  Then this sudden thought about my depression laced my mind like a orange streak during sunset. I thought exactly this "Hey I don't feel so sad or miserable despite of barely having an hour of sleep after the tedious packing last night. This is good—this is great." And I just found it strange because there were times when I longed for the tide of melancholy—that despicable depression every time I am in the normal mood. At first, I was almost certain I have gone insane. Or totally depressed. Or both. I mean who wants to be ******* depressed all the time and then go through emotional calm and then the ******* cycle recycles itself like trash made to look pretty but when consumed gets to become trash again. Who ******* does? But I also realized I must have come to this sense of familiarity with the pain that drove me to the edge for almost a month now. It really becomes your home when you lose sense of yourself and the only thing comforting you is that very pain which have wrecked your home.

And all too suddenly, these thoughts just made me half hysterical half teary-eyed. Because at that moment as I waited for the plane to ******* trace the runway already ( I get impatient, yes) I felt grateful. The word really is grateful. Not even happy, delirious or euphoric. Just a hell lot of gratefulness. I find myself thanking this moment of just grasping happiness even if I know for sure I'll probably get depressed tonight again (as per usual). Before I'd get hyper and just laugh like there is nobody to mind me but I never felt this thankful ever. I started looking back to those moments of happiness where I get to believe in greater things again. Where I'd worry for a second then dismiss it saying "Ah this hardly matters, so ***** it." After being drenched in so much unexplainable pain and going through this high and low almost everyday, I've come to a conclusion that I never really appreciated those moments of peaceful glee as much as I am at that moment. And I thought hat could have never been possible if I wasn't crying myself for nights, being vulnerable and seemingly weak to a bunch of people, admitting to myself that I was losing interest in life itself. It was like going through a warzone unarmed but after the trail has left the danger, you start feeling a wave of relief—a recovery after the storm.

When I started accepting the fact that I am a person with a high tendency to get depressed, I also came to accept that I've always been a sensitive person. It hardly ever shows, to be quite honest. I can appear to people as uncaring or too self-absorbed or reserved but it's only because I **** at the art of self-expression. Really, since 1995. I'd keep it all to myself although inside I am shattering. And people would have no idea because I NEVER SHARE. But ever since I was a child, I'd get these instances of melancholy simply because I can see other people (who I should not even care about) twist in pain or I'll see so much injustice that it makes me feel indignant or I can see something is wrong with someone the moment I talk to them. Things just affect me in ways that I could never understand. Add to that is my defining characteristic of being a ******* introvert. My introversion has given way to me becoming a highly introspective person. So I'd think about life a lot, question life a lot, wonder why we are as we are and some existential **** like that.

I hated all the pain I went through these past few weeks. I am a person who is independent and knows herself completely. But when depression hit me, I was clouded in a mist of ambiguity. I dont know anymore who I was, I could not understand y emotions, i could not feel happy when I am doing the things that I love. It just ****** me into a black hole. There were times that sleep was my only remedy. Partly because I wanted to escape the loneliness, the anxiety, the self-loathing and my entire body refusing to cooperate and partly because I felt tired all the ******* time and even if I slept for an entire day, I would still feel the same when I wake up. But today, I felt happy that I went through all of them. Even if there was one time that I gagged my mouth with pillow because I was about to scream in so much pain— (thank god I was alone in the room) and afraid that I might scare the other dormers away. That night as my eyes felt like rivers ,I swore that I will not let this control me. I swore that someday I'll find out why the hell this happened to me. And then I cried even more because even when all that pain was overpowering me, I still had a little hope left in me. I felt like I found a fragment of myself again. That somehow I wasnt totally *******. It was absolute contradiction but at that time I existed in between the two polar opposites of myself.

Depression is like being on the edge of a very steep cliff. You're about to fall, constant fear stops you but beneath your feet, you see wonder from beyond. You see possibilities. You see a town from somewhere far where there is so much life. You see a forest from afar and it seems so wonderful you start believing in good things again.I've  come to remind myself that I had a family, I had friends but most importantly, pain is a great wake up call. I thought love is a great unconquerable emotion. I severely underestimated pain and how it can change people. Pain brings wounds that either scar us for life or bring a different perspective. I'd say I've seen the worst possible side of me when I got depressed. It was scary and it makes you hate yourself. You get repelled because it's dark and ugly. But on the flip side, I saw how pain has made me see that after all that, I could make it. In fact, everyone can. I also peered into the mind of depressives and it was extremely helpful since I have good friends who have been cursed with this disease (they were suicidals even). I'd lack the understanding when they shared their experiences to me before but now I was slapped in the face for even considering to call them selfish or cowards. They are not. I feel like I need to tell people this because depression can only be understood when you have been there. People have different ways of handling pain which my mom likes to call 'pain threshold'. Some have it deeper, some can only contain pain in few doses. I wanted to give each and everyone who had ever been depressed a big hug because nothing is worse than losing meaning in life. And my heart goes out to each and everyone of us who caged all that pain and somehow moved forward despite the odds. Quite honestly, I would have preferred being hit by a car and be confined for more than a month than go through all that sadness and meaninglessness where hell is walking right inside you/strong desire to want to give up on life altogether/strong desire to be shaken off by society as an outcast and that won't even matter. You'd literally want to do anything just to take away all that hopelessness and misery. But at the same time you're too tired to do anything. Most terrific **** I have been so far, just ******* terrific.

*I wrote the first part of this entry when I was on the plane going home. Tonight, I finished it with a heavy heart. I am depressed again despite being with people that I love most and engaging in lovely talk with them just a couple of hours ago. My emotions are being strung along by someone other than myself. My distractions are no longer working—I might need new ones.  As I looked back to parts of this entry I realized that this condition gives me brief chances where everything is peaceful. I just hold on and wait for those chances. I've seem to tolerate this better now and my mood swings reveal a general pattern of anxiety first, normalcy then on to depression. Sometimes there are specific times, sometimes it's all random. This has been unnecessarily long but I have only been comforted by two things during my depression: music and writing. Although to be quite honest, writing can also cause me to be more depressed as I have lost my energy and motivation to write even when the other side of my brain cries in frustration because I do love writing so much. Music on the other hand gives me a lot of hope for some reason and a form of escape from all the unwanted thoughts. Some songs do make me more melancholic but my interest in music has changed ever since I started getting depressed.
Super rough draft. My writing has become pretty meh but I really wanted to share this. I have jumbled all my ideas in what seems to be an incoherent mess. Though in my defense, my brain has worked 5 times slower ever since. I could still count but most of the time my head's all black canvas with slight moments of paranoia.
Brody Thompson Oct 2012
Who are your heroes?
What kind of spell
Do they put on you?
Better count your zeros.
Cant let something you use
Use you too.
Let me be me, and I'll be fine.
And I'll go back to the road
With laces on the line.

Which direction are you headed?
Cause it's lookin mighty low.
But if I don't lose control,
How else will I ever know?

Not enough nights
I can't remember.
Not enough ink
On my skin.
Not enough knowledge
Laid to waste.
Greeting the things
I once called sin.
Thought I knew it all,
King of the world.
Davey Jones' Locker,
Just a slimey old pearl.

All our idols
Suicidals,
In denials,
Crooked smiles.
Judas Mar 2016
Books are meant to be read
Not to be judged
As water to be drunk
Not to be eaten.
Like you,
You deserve to be alive
Not to be dead.
You died for a day
But you lived for years.
Think about it.
It's not worth it.
JDK Apr 2014
How did it happen?
I didn't even like you at first,
and now you're the first thing I think of when I wake up,
if I wasn't already dreaming of you while I slept.
When I look into your eyes I feel short of breath.

I want you the way suicidals want death.

But I cannot have you, and I resent the fact
that you somehow stole my heart and now won't give it back.
And yet, if I had you I know I wouldn't want you anymore.
I'd come to loathe you in the way that a child hates chores.
But you've melded to my mind;
you're burned into my brain.

I want you the way that a moth wants the flame.

It's a paradoxical ache.
A feeling so strange.
In the English language it doesn't even have a name,
but I believe this is what the french refer to as
the exquisite pain.
Not Listed Sep 2015
This life has ripped me limb from limb...
Torn off the shroud of hope....
Broken the things that matter most...
But here I stand...
No!
Here we stand together!
Not as individuals but as one!
Self harm, eating disorders, suicidals....
We have each other!
Don't let society put a label on us all!
Be what we set out to be!
Better than what they called us!
Colette May 2014
a sun by the wrist,
what more to say?

to all the attempted suicidals,
eating disorders,
self harming,
stop.

for you are all perfect in your way.

never change,
for anyone,
anything,
anyhow.

today is your day,
i love you,
each and every one of you.

*let's get through this together
Happy May 13th #letithappenmay
UV Jan 2017
An artist needs a muse
Like how the suicidals need the noose
Feelings feeding the fears
And fear feeding the tears
Round and round
Its how the carousel the goes
Never really getting anywhere
The choice is yours to get on
Like how the poet chooses his quill
But what you pour on the parchment
Can never be choreographed
Cause the heart will bleed on its own accord
So spoiler alert to the suicidal artists
Your muse will be your noose.
Moose Mar 2015
"Suicide is selfish
Dont be a victim"                    
All a load of
Paradox in a can

Who truly knows    
How it goes?
One day it starts
The feeling only grows

One day I take charge
Only I know
How much to take
To overdose

But remember kids
Suicidals are only
"Selfish victims"
So don't shed a tear
When they are not here
Hannah Sabine Jan 2013
You left
like a bullet
through the back of
a suicidals skull.
there's no exit
wound.
sometimes i wish
there was.
rain May 2018
i get lost in my head and there's no way hence,
i'm like a street that's got no pavement,
stuck in a prison that's got no fence,
sometimes my mind cracks,
and i don't know my name,
my opinions are put in sacks,
and i start to play a game,
i like to call madness,
where the rules are set by cruelty,
and the prize is set by sadness,
and you'd think i'd have immunity,
seeing as i've been here before,
but when the visions come flooding in,
my screams get loud by more,
but they're silenced by the pillow i cry in,
my shakes stopped by the bed i lie in,
yet my closed eyes see in perfect colour,
and i look at my hands and they aren't my own,
i don't know where my honour has gone,
i look in the mirror and there's a stranger looking back,
then my mind freezes and all i see is black,
then sounds and feelings are in my room,
they turn my sunshine to gloom,
and it's all so real and so painful,
and i don't know when they're coming or how plentiful,
they'll be,
they could last a minute,
or maybe,
to an hour from a minute,
could it be,
my head is a maze and the only way out,
is by reminding myself of who is going to shout,
to lead me through the dark,
and who caresses the mark,
or the plural of mark,
that rests on my wrists like a shark,
waiting to bite at whoever wishes to embark,
on a quest to turn me into a lark,
and rid me of my dark,
ness.
i'm such a mess.
i wish i could be ruthless.
less insecure and useless.
because when this **** happens to me,
i become a demon,
and i need someone to lean on,
to make it all a little better.
and i won't come a trend setter,
for depressed suicidals.
insight on my thought process
sapthepoet Jul 2018
So I was at church last year I prayed like I usually do but this time is was different my mind was not lost or trapped in prison. I was on my knees and i had a sincere conversation with God, when i prayed in tongues. I saw myself in a white suit not sure why I was in a white suit but I was genuinely at peace and relaxed on the inside, I wasn't happy, I didnt have a fake smile or I wasn't trying to get through the day with smart-*** jokes. There was a light and there was a soft compassionate voice that told me that everything was going to be alright you'll have that good wife and live out a good life. I knew that the voice wasn't mines because most of  the things I hear in my head are negative discussions about myself. The voice said that your family will be free from: all binding chains, all curses, all pain, all obstacles, all unforgiveness, cycles and thoughts of suicidals; and you will be the tool/vessel that will be used to deliver my blessings, I think about that message from God when I'm feeling down or useless and it uplifts my spirit because, it's a path and a light at the end of the tunnel because sometimes: goals fail,
you work hard but you don't get that promotion or the brown noser who doesn't work gets more appreciation than you, the girl thinks that the guy who beats her silly or emotionally abuses her is good enough for her, being alone ***** but settling for someone who doesnt care about you or your hapiness is like a coyote caught in a trap that chews its leg off to escape. I thank God for wgat I have and I also thank him for keeping me being caught up in situations or relationships that I dont have no business in the first place. My mentortold me nothing that's worthwhile is easy, so try hard, try harder and then try even harder.
Ill start over if i need too, or I'll come at it from a different angle if other options don't work but I won't give up.
Judas Mar 2016
It is okay to feel pain sometimes.
It is okay to even cry sometimes.
For pain needs to be felt
And tears need to flow.

It is okay to hate the world sometimes.
It is okay to even rest sometimes.
For the world is full of lies
And lies are part of life.

Problem is universal.
It is inevitable.
It's a test for suicidals.
But not for strong people.

It is okay to think sometimes.
It is okay to be weak sometimes.
For in thinking you find answers
And for being weak you find strength.

Problem is universal.
It is not only you.
Let it not ruin your potential.
Let it not drive you.
XnwxrMxlik Mar 2021
When I look in my brown eyes
Searching for my soul
I realise how impatient am I
To meet the king of grey
Senpai of death and life.
Light-bringer, Messiah, Lucifer, Newcomer,
Who suffers? Your people.
Your peaceful disciples, suicidals
Are waiting for your final arrival
For we pray
From the depths of
Never quenching fire
With thousands of cry
From a place of hope,
Sunshine, and butterflies.
Entering a new cycle
With a retitle
Who rewrites the bible
For equal or evil
What you stand for??
Calculate the number triple
Where free-will isn't illegal
Freedom isn't lethal
*** isn't a business
Immortal, no illness
No physical
But psychic
Spiritual wisdom
Not religious...
Bard Apr 2021
Doing all the wrong things seeking all the thrills
You know exactly what I mean
Its all found as it leaks from the seams with dollar bills
It's all exactly what is seems
Young suicidals going out without a hollow point
Ravers, molly, and lean
Pass the codeine left in a dream don't follow him out

The picture is the youth left in the cracks given no place
Filled with resentment and hate
Sutured with blue bullets and red stains divided by race
Shoot then get a statement
Die paying rent or Die sleeping on pavement
Misery is the raiment
Cut from peasant cloth life is the sentence

Maybe the next media personality has the answers we seek
Or maybe the next fatality
Wish we didn't live in reality TV in the middle everyone acts weak
Just clutching onto stability
While losing touch with sanity okay with atrocity when we cull the meek
To any we swear fealty
As long I get affordability then forget about our modern day slavery

Rotten teeth, family dead because of premiums
Still they sleep
Plotting robbery cause the family has needs
Like food to eat
Only then does help come for the victims
Cops on the beat
Track down criminals that scare the suburbans

Aren't we scary in these streets, so scary in this hell
But the demons weep
Brought to our knees some fall some just don't hear the bell
Guns and death on TV
Are these the answers given to me should I do as they tell
Crime, drugs, and ******
Taught the only outs are body bags and prison cells
We're making false Gods from
the idols
of alcohol and drugs,
suicidals and cases in
psych wards
go backwards into
side wards and pray,
the antichrist is on holiday
but his stand-in stands in for him
things have never looked better
if
you believe in that ****.

taking the time out to time out
thinking
this isn't the line up
but the time's up
and we're *******.

— The End —